Sinneth: The Collected tales of an Iosian
by Heretic Brony
Summary: This is a Privateer Press, Iron Kingdoms/Warmachine/Hordes story told from the perspective of Sylven, aka Sinneth the Mage Hunter, Warcaster. Sinneth at the start of the story is a burnt out, bitter, defeated man. He has been fighting so long that the fires of hate that made him strong have long been drown in a flood of alcohol that has turned him into a wasted shadow of himself.
1. Chapter 1

"No please, take me, spare my daughter." A human father curled around his child as the Iosian man came closer his boots sounding cold as they moved across the floor.

"Understand your cries do not fall on a soulless heart." His blade flashed as focus burned through its length. "I take no pleasure in this but I will spare you my pain. You won't have to watch your witch spawn die." The man's head dropped to the floor as he looked at the girl, tears and snot running down her face. She was frightened, and holding her father's now headless body. Runes flickered to life than died around her hands as she tried to work up the courage to cast a spell at the elf. As the rune circle fully formed, as the spell was ready to leave the witches body, her form dropped lifeless to the ground, her heart splattered across the wall behind her from the power of the blade crafted in love by an ill-fated wife for her warcaster husband and lover.

The Iosian turned around and took a bottle of whisky from his pack and poured the headless man a drink in a tin cup and then took out a plush bear and set it for the girl. "I hope you meet each other on the other side humans." He then took the bottle of whisky and without thinking swallowed down nearly half of the contents as he walked away. He had to wash the taste from his mouth. Another girl slaughtered this one younger than the rest. He was so tired of slaughter, and Scyrah wasn't getting better nor was her decline getting slower. With trembling hands he tore off his armor and cast it aside. No more. No more. He couldn't stand it anymore, the tears in the parents' eyes as they watched their children die, the Crying mothers that reminded him of his wife, the children clutching to dead parents pleading to parents to wake up, to not leave them, the little girl's with tears in their eyes the brothers standing up for sisters, the big sisters pulling their younger siblings behind them.

Humans, there were only a few things they did right, but what they did right they do very right. Booze, hang over food, and family. The fires of vengeance sputtered as the embers drown in the whisky had he really already drank three quarters of the bottle? He slumped against the tree. He was done with retribution, vengeance, hate. Maybe human magic was to blame but maybe they were looking at the wrong magic. Maybe it wasn't human magic in general, but some specific branch of it. He didn't know, he didn't care, the whisky was catching up and soon the nightmares of a hundred more crying children would flood him. He waited for them to come, he welcomed them to come and pick him apart like carrion birds.

"Hey we found him." It was an Iosian woman; she stirred Sinneth from his whisky induced nightmares. "He smells like he tried to drink a whole bar." The female assassin knelt over him and looked at him. "Oh Scyrah they had you kill another child didn't they, you always get really drunk when children are involved." She looked at the Warcaster turned assassin then helped him to his feet. "Looks like you were thinking about leaving again."

"I am leaving. I'm done…I can't do this anymore." He struggled out from under her as he drunkenly stumbled to the next settlement. "Thank you…and farewell…may you save Scyrah and our people."

He couldn't remember how long it had been, time was told only by the bottle…and right now it was 8 bottle bourbon 21st beer; Sometime around his 10th closing time. The same assassin he had said farewell to was sitting next to him, wearing a black dress that sowed her figure well. She leaned over sipping a berry wine and rum cocktail. "Listen, you're my brother in law so I did you a favor. You're officially exploring your theory, the one I heard you mumble drunkenly in your sleep; about different magic. Look into it, report any findings to me. As a gift I got you this; happy anniversary." She left the package, and finished her drink. "Good bye."


	2. Chapter 2

"Honey, hurry or you'll be Late." Syriah called out to her husband, a House Shyell Warcaster named Sylven, who hopped down the stairs two at a time grabbing up his daughter he swept her up and spun her around listening to her giggle. He set the giggling little girl down at the table for her breakfast and picked up his sword as his wife made a final adjustment to the arcanika armor he was wearing and leaned in kissing her husband. "Go keep our boarders safe silly, we'll be here when you get back."

This same scene became a moment in time that seemed fixed forever once we month the black haired Iosian man would show his love for his daughter and his wife. As the girl aged their morning greeting changed and as she became a young woman the ritual changed slightly. While Syriah was a master Arcane Mekanik and was often working on house Shyell's Myrmidons her daughter inherited her father's less productive magic and it wasn't long before she began studying at a prestigious school for Arcanists. With his life so blessed Sylven couldn't have been happier.

Sliding down the stair banister Cyaneth aimed for her father. Her long hair with its magenta tones matcher her mother's as she glided down the steps, and using the nob at the bottom she kicked off into a twirl that landed herself with the grace of a dancer into her father's arms. "Morning Daddy" She beamed into his face as she untangled herself from her father and danced over to her mother hugging her. "So I'll be going with you today mom?"

"Yes dear, today you get to come with me. I'll be going just outside of the gates to look at some Myrmidons that stopped responding. So make sure you're ready." Syriah pleaded with her adolescent daughter. "Honey! You'll be late!" She called to her Husband and pulled out his pocket watch and checked it and realizing the time darted over to kitchen and kissed his daughter on the cheek and his beloved wife on her lips sweetly before going to protect the boarder of the kingdom like he always did.

It was that evening as he sat alone waiting for the two treasures in his life to return that he learned to true meaning for loss. His sister in law entered the house, she was a member of the radical faction the Retribution and her words poured into his ears as she told him of the humans who slaughtered his family. His wife and daughter stolen from him, violated, and left for the carrion birds, his heart shriveled in his chest as the woman continued talking. He heard little as hate poured out from the empty space that his heart had once occupied. Fire burned in him as he turned to his visitor. "I want to join the Retribution."


End file.
